My happy and sad are always at war with each other.  You see I’m haunted by a promise I  made that I have not been able to keep. I always kept my promises to her.  So I feel I have failed her.

Me, the writer who is never at a loss with words, who loved my daughter more than anyone on the planet…I draw a blank when I try to tell her story.

She wanted me to share her fight to live.  All I can think of is the horror she suffered while dying, I am tramautized, having nursed her while that monster ate her alive and I was helpless to save my only child.  All I feel is pain and how incredibly empty my life is without her sharing it.

So I stick with fiction when I write my novels and she haunts my dreams, yelling at me.  “Mommy you might help save a life if you will just tell people what happened to me!”

Her cancer was curable in the early stages.  But she was diagnosed two weeks before she would have died if she hadn’t fought instantly with chemo and radiation.  They began her treatments the same day she came out of surgery to have it diagnosed.  She had another agonizing elven months before her body was overcome with too many tumors to survive.

Horrifying, knowing that if only someone had take the time to really listen to her in the early stages…if they hadn’t excused her reoccuring symptoms as just a young girl blossoming into womanhood having messed up cycles…

Oh lordy if only I could have figured it out eight years ealier…she would still be here.

I beat myself up every day…Wondering what I could have done different.  I did take her to doctors.  I did see the warning signs but they didn’t all fit.  I was as shocked as she was when they told that she would die no matter how hard she fought, that all she could have was a little more time if that was her wish.

Of course that was her wish!  She was only 23 years old and a newly wed!  She was planning the rest of her life!  Totally unprepared to end it!

I miss her…

Those words can not even begin to describe how broken my heart is.  Or how much I long to see her even one last time.

I kept a promise to her.  To become a published author before I die.  There have been a few times in the past year I thought I might not get to keep that promise.  I was on my own deathbed.  But for some reason my will to live even though there are moments I didn’t want to without her, was stronger than my illness and I’m still here.

I am so fragile.  Every day I push forward.  Every day I am rewarded with another little ounce of hope. Some little miracle that was unexpected.  Some glimmer of something just beyond the horizon that I keep moving toward.  Because time was the gift she wanted most and I will not waste mine.  I am doing all the little things she longed to do, but they bring no joy…because she is not sharing them with me, except in spirit.
No one, nothing, can warm me. I am living in a cold lonely world where my sunshine died.

If you would like to see her, here she is…

and if you would like to read the book that she made me promise to get published, here it is too.

I wrote when she was eight years old and she had to wait many years to get to read it.  It was rated r.   After she finally did she was my biggest fan and pushed me so hard to become a full time writer.  This was number one on the bucket list she made for me to finish before I leave this world too.

My happy and sad are always at war with each other…because my true love has died…and nothing will ever make me smile the way she did…ever again…If you watch the smiles in this video…those are the smiles of two souls that mingled in the womb and bonded with everlasting love on earth, feeding each others happiness.

My happy and my sad are always at war.  My baby is dead and I died with her…


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